


can you feel my heart again

by prettylittlepasha



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Canon Era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 10:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettylittlepasha/pseuds/prettylittlepasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's an avenging angel come down from heaven to fight for the lost and unloved. He looks likes sunlight come to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	can you feel my heart again

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from lyrics of "come to me" by the goo goo dolls

The thunk of the empty wine bottle hitting the ground is nearly deafening in the silent room.

Grantaire hasn't been able to stop staring at the painting. He still doesn't know what possessed him to even paint this monstrosity in the first place. A voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like _hope_ whispers that this painting needed to exist and he was the one to bring it into the world.

He reaches for one of the other bottles at the foot of his bed, carefully kicking the empty to join it's predecessors below the window.

The painting is lovely, even Grantaire can admit to it's beauty.

On the canvas is a mob of the people of France, gathered together for revolution, ready to take the freedom denied to them for so long with guns and battle and lives. Every face has their own distinct details, they are all _people_ ; no two faces are the same.

But the true beauty of the piece is the revolutionaries leader.

The lighting in the painting shines on him, seems to make him glow. Or maybe it's his eyes, how they _burn_ with a passion and conviction Grantaire has never seen on a real person.

He's an avenging angel come down from heaven to fight for the lost and unloved. He looks likes sunlight come to life.

Grantaire hates himself for painting this. He's never done anything better in all his life, can never hope to paint something of this caliber again. It's stunning.

It will never happen. There are no avenging angels to come lead them against the bourgeois. There is no sunlight made solid to fight beside them. There is no hope for change. There is no point in believing.

He tips the new bottle back and takes a long pull of the wine.

He can't take his eyes of the veritable Apollo on his canvas.

He places a shaking hand over the leaders heart and says, “I wish you were real.”

That night he falls asleep on the floor, clutching a wine bottle and reaching out for the man in his painting.

Grantaire stirs as someone draping a blanket over him. He doesn't wake or move until a hand starts stroking through his hair. He opens bleary eyes to see the blurry a man sitting next to him.

“Grantaire,” a voice calls.

“Grantaire,” the voice sounds like passion and fire _._

He blinks the sleep from his eyes and finally sees him. His breath stutters in his chest and he reaches up—his hands are shaking, not from lack of drink this time, but from true fear; this has to be a dream—and cradles the man's cheek.

When Grantaire speaks he sounds like someone trying to talk while a hand tightens on their throat, “You're real,”

He smiles and it is _radiant._ Everything about him is radiant, he is sunlight given human form, he is an angel come down to earth, he is an ancient god returned from far away.

He is _real._

**Author's Note:**

> had the idea for a Pygmalion/Galatea e/R AU and it wouldn't leave me alone.


End file.
